


Devil May Care

by malakai



Category: Cyberpunk 2077 (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, But we have to hurt first, F/M, Happy Ending, Johnny gets jealous, Like very very slight, Oral Sex, Pillow Talk, Plot What Plot, Porn Without Plot, SMOTHERED IN FLUFF, Shower Sex, Smut, Vaginal Sex, but only slight, get the omega blockers, sauciness because we deserve more River and V time, smut hut, thats what V called it and I liked it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-03
Updated: 2021-01-08
Packaged: 2021-03-13 06:29:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,234
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28523988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/malakai/pseuds/malakai
Summary: V's on borrowed time; she knows that. With Johnny berating her every will and whim, her attitude went from should I? to Why the fuck not? She's already dying. Why not make the most of it?Or in which V keeps running into River and, despite the circumstances, can't seem to resist the rakish cop.devil may care is to be cheerful and reckless.
Relationships: Female V/River Ward, V/River Ward
Comments: 28
Kudos: 138





	1. Carnal Musings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Assuming you've already played the chapter, if not, SPOILER ALERT, I don't intend on following the quest step by step, more of -fleshing it out-. I won't use the dialogue verbatim either. I just felt like we were robbed of a good thorough romance. River is a darling, and I think he and V should make love, lots and lots of love. And maybe jump bad guys together. I hope yall enjoy.

A merc and a cop walk out of a bar. There was a punch line somewhere in there, but V was too busy sizing up tonight's current partner. Written in hard lines, a strong stature, all wrapped in a pretty handsome package with a smooth voice, Detective River Ward was a force in his own right, a man on a mission, and of unwavering determination. And V was nothing but a street kid with a chip on her shoulder. But who could blame the dirty merc for letting her eyes linger a little too long? 

Nightfall had claimed Night City in light rain and neon reflections but despite the hour, the sidewalks were bustling. 

"Is that your whip?" River eyed the sleek silver number parked beside his Thorton as they exited the Chubby Buffalo. 

"Uh, yeah," V murmured, rather shyly. It cost her several rolling heads and eddies, but he didn't need to know that part, given his status as a cop, especially.

"Not bad, impractical, but nice. I'd be lying to say I didn't yearn for something fast and flashy." River looked over a broad shoulder, a smirk playing his lips.

The sight caught V by surprise. The effects it had on her bearing did, too.

 _Stop that._ Johnny interjected.

 _Stop what?_ she snapped, schooling her features quickly.

_You know what you're doing._

V yanked the car door open and slid in, forcing herself to fully absorb River's sheer existence in such close proximity. He was so .... so _big_ and smelled like leather, whiskey, and the diner they just left _._ She dropped her gaze from his shoulders to the lap where his jeans clung to his thighs. Even beneath the fabric, she could see the striation of his quads. 

_Oh, for fuck's sake. Are you seriously thinking about that?_ Johnny groaned. _Just fuckin' kill me now._

V blinked, snapping free of her carnal musings. Goddamn, how long had it been? Johnny was right, though: she _should_ stop, regardless of the stretch of time it'd been since V had physical contact outside of handshakes, cordial hugs, or fistfights. 

Tonight's gig was no different than any other and it was important to stay focused.

* * *

A shotgun blast rang off across Night City.

From afar, it was an echoing cry. For V, it blew the window above her head into glass projectiles and set her ears ringing. She flinched despite the comical amount of times someone blew the windows out because they were shooting her; it was still so surprising. 

"V?" River's voice came over the holo comms in earnest. "I heard something. Is everything okay?"

She wanted to respond but right now, she still had the element of surprise even if she did give her positioning away. The assailant knew V was nearby, she just didn't know _how_ near. She rushed, vaulting over a box, and threw herself against the woman's broad back, wrapping her arms around her thick throat, and squeezed as if her life fuckin' depended on it. Meaty hands gripped her, tearing at her with filthy nails until the junky sank to her knees and slumped forward. The animal cried, but the sound was a choked wheeze. V had to throw her legs around the beast for extra leverage.

She pried herself off, quickly opening the comms; she had to get the detective to stop his advances before he betrayed both of their positions.

"Yeah, everything's fine," V breathed, shaking off shards of glass clinging to her jacket. "Just got spotted for a sec. Stay where you are."

From the comms, she watched him slow to a trot. It was one thing for V to slink in like a shadow, low to the ground; it was another for this boulder of a man to trounce in, smashing glass and busting doors down. This could be done under the radar and as Detective Ward liked to put it: _it was less paperwork._

"Okay," he said. Was that relief? "Just... be careful." 

V swallowed thickly, reeling from her adrenaline, not from the fight but from hearing River's voice washing over her. She wasn't used to _his_ voice coming over the holo, and for a split moment, she thought she was back running gigs and raking in eddies with her best man - Jackie.

At any rate, it was time to find the entrance to the club.


	2. Venus in Furs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> V invites River over for the beer he promised her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, after this chapter, there'll be some sex, some fighting, some more sex, and some fluff and pillow talk because we know River's soft on the inside. What a cute sap. Anyway, I just wanted to say heed the tags, heed the rating, and heed these words. I'm doing this for selfish ass reasons, and I'm not pulling punches, and I don't think yall want me to ;]

V braced herself when the subdued mirror came into focus, then blew a sigh know relief to find her true self looking back at her and not the megalomaniac corrupting her prefrontal cortex. Last night, she'd only thrown up twice due to the relic, and none around River, so that was a victory as far as she was concerned. 

_A cop and merc, huh? Not the wildest thing I've encountered._ Johnny posted up by her apartment window that overlooked the bustle below. It was a bleak morning, swathed in a gray overcast that veiled the city in a dense fog. Still, it was better than the orange, acidic rain that sometimes came through when the Badlands got a bout of dust storms, throwing the city into an obscurer, unpleasant glow that looked more like the inside of a furnace but smelled like the inside of someone's asshole.

"Butt out of my business." V scowled, pun unintended.

_Unfortunately, as much as I want to, your business is now my business._

"How could I forget?" she snorted, towel drying her hair. She'd since lost her demure having Johnny so intimately embedded into her day to day life and thoughts. By now, seeing the terrorizer was just another extension of her psyche, like looking into the mirror and being displeased with it. And yeah, she knew that was as troubling as it sounds. Still, it didn't mean she walked about with her goods on full display but sometimes it felt Johnny looked at her for too long, as if he were sizing her up like she sized up the detective from the other night - a gig encounter she found herself reflecting on and not just to polish and buff out her mistakes, but in a reminiscing sense. 

Wearing a crop top and panties, she plopped onto her couch and pulled out her phone. A text awaited her.

When her eyes scanned its contents, a flush crept over her face. It was from River, which surprised her. She didn't think their paths would ever cross again, not only that, why -

_The fuck is your heart hammering? It's not even a dick pic._

RW: **Need your help again. Can we meet up somewhere soon?**

A simple request, she knew, but knowing V's luck, the only reason anyone involved her was because The Shit called and she wanted to hit the fan. And who knew The Shit and her piss poor ways more than V?

 _For fuck's sake_ , Johnny grumbled. _This dude is a cop. Why does he keep coming to you instead of his badge buddies?_

It was a good question, to be fair. Detective Ward likely had the plugs in and out of the force. V did her part, snuck into the club, and got the intel they needed thereafter. What more could he want from her?

V quickly replied: **of course, uhh, my place? After sunset?**

_Why sunset, V? Hm? I find the timing and location rather suspicious._

"Once again, I don't get why you care so goddamn much. He's a cop and I don't want to be seen out in public with him during broad daylight - he's also nice so relax." Among many other things that distracted her. Was nice really all it took to catch V's eyes? Certainly not. River was attractive to boot. Who the fuck was she kidding?

 _Fuck nice._ Johnny groused. _Nice gets you killed._

V perked a brow, still staring at the text like it could lure her away from her dire situation. "Is _that_ what happened?"

She wondered if he caught the sleight, and when he tossed her a glare, she knew he did.

 _Look,_ Johnny began, and V braced herself for a lecture that was more insulting than enlightening. _You're going to do whatever the fuck you want to do. I know that, but don't forget, I'm still in your head, and I want out of here just as much as you want me gone. You're dying, for Christ's sake._

Exactly, she thought. Her days were numbered, and this jack ass wouldn't allow her a second to forget. It created an anxious headspace she couldn't shake, and in some days, she stopped giving a shit entirely, feeling cornered and nauseated. In other ways, it gave her a sense of purpose. _There wasn't time to fuck off or mill about._ Yet, V was climbing her way to the top, for better or worse, which brought a range of other problems. If she wasn't getting stabbed in the back by the VooDoo boys or getting caught in a setup by fixers, she was caught up trying to find leads on this biochip while it took a literal shit on her mental faculties. Surviving NC was practically a job. She understood, truly, she did, and no amount of stinging words from a digital cretin was going to change the outcome: _she was fucked._

V looked up in thought, staring at the floor of her apartment as she reflected on the moment she met Johnny. It was volatile and abrupt, coming out from every corner of her mind, and she couldn't defend herself if she wanted to. Now, look at him. Her eyes skirted to the window, lecturing her on what's good and bad, bitching at her as the days were long. She was stopped short when he offered sound advice and even a helping hand, but in the end, it was all for his own means. At least Johnny was as steady as ever, despite V coming apart at every turn.

_Don't lose sight of what's important, V, and don't drag this man down with you._

"Shut the fuck up," she muttered and flicked her address anyway.

* * *

River brought a twelve-pack, still wearing those jeans that blessed his physique and his proverbial ensemble of shit-kickers and a leather fur-tuft jacket. He looked like a porn star from the archaic 70s if V were honest, rogueish, venus in furs kind of guy. Perhaps that was her kink.

V couldn't stop the smile from spreading across her face even if someone slapped it off of her, though she kept it from coming off _too_ interested. She didn't want to scare the man away before she sank her claws into him. 

"You brought the beer you promised."

"I did," he sighed, stepping into her apartment and shucking off his jacket, where beneath he wore a tank that left _little_ to the imagination. V took the beer, pulled two bottles, and placed the rest in the fridge. 

"Nice place." 

_She cleaned up by tossing everything into her stash room. Oh, and she shaved. Y'know, just in case._ Johnny began to slowly pace the room, the thud of his boots causing her eye to twitch. 

V cracked open the drinks with her augmented grip, the flesh-colored plating flexing mechanically as the torque increased until the twist-offs released a satisfying hiss. River helped himself to the couch, likely scanning the room for insights on what type of woman V happened to be. She wondered if she should have tossed the troll plushie in the back, but too late; he already picked it up and was rotating it in his hands. As long as she gave the illusion she was put together, things would be fine.

_Far from it, actually. I've got front row seats to this dumpster fire._

Ignoring Johnny tonight was going to be a chore.

"What's the matter?" she sat, giving River enough to space that was respectable. Something was troubling him. It was written in the tension of his brow, even though since she'd known him, he liked to scowl; this seemed directed at something or someone, more deliberate. 

_Still thinking about crawling into his lap, aren't you?_

"It's personal this time," River began. "A perp the force has been keeping an eye on was detained. Found some questionable ties that I think have a good lead on the whereabouts of a family member."

"A wife?" V had no idea how this night would go, but she knew she felt reckless and the way his eyes passed over her? She wasn't making it up, was she? 

"No," he took a sip. "My nephew. I don't have much family aside from my sister and her kids. His name Randy and he's been missing for some time."

_Christ... he's single as if things couldn't get any worse. Not that fidelity ever stopped someone from getting their nut. I hope his cocks small so we can get this shit over with._

"Keep talking," she stood, "I'm listening." While River continued, she beelined for the bathroom, tearing the top off the omega blockers in a panic, throwing several into her palm, and cramming them all into her mouth until she thought she might choke. The beer helped wash them down, but V remained in the bathroom, glaring into her reflection until Johnny, standing behind her with his head shaking, disappeared. She polished off the remaining beer, fixed her hair and dark lipstick before returning to the couch. 

She made sure to sit just an _inch_ closer.

"What's the perp have to say?" 

"Not much," River turned to her, propping an arm on the chair's backing and stretching his legs out. "He's in a coma."

V scoffed. "Lucky bastard. So... you want my help?"

"I do," his eyes dipped to her mouth, which sent her heart ratcheting."Can I count on you?" 

Was she really getting giddy about this gonk? _She was!_

"How could I say no?" she didn't mean to purr, but oh, purr she did. V looked away as heat stole her cheeks and made herself busy by grabbing her beer and taking a long pull. Johnny was quiet. Perhaps the blockers were finally working. 

River cleared his throat, polishing off his first drink by the time V neared the bottom of her second. She asked. "Care for another?" 

"I would, thanks."

They settled into a comfortable silence, listening to the perpetual din from her neighbors and the jagged guitar riff ripping from the radio until, suddenly, River chugged his second beer in one go, sat it down triumphantly, then cracked open a third.

"Whoa," V swiped her drink from the coffee table. "Is this a race?"

"A race?" he laughed, a pleasant rumble from his chest. "I'm only trying to catch up."

"I don't think this is a race you want to win."

He barked a laugh. "You must not know me. I _always_ win."

Again, V couldn't stop the grin from spreading across her face. "Alright, say it is a race - what's the prize?"

His eyes met hers, then lowered, lingering on her mouth and continuing their slow scan from her tattooed throat to the loose neck of her faded band tee that showed off a slender collar bone and her shoulder. "I'll let you decide," he said in octaves too low for her female hindbrain to resist.

"That's dangerous territory, Mr. Ward," V whispered. "Giving a merc all the power? Aren't you worried I'm going to take advantage of you? Maybe seduce you to the wrong side of the law?"

River shrugged his broad shoulders, delts rippling with muscle that made V's mouth water. "I don't think anything negative could come of you."

"Are you sure?" V slid closer. "I can be bad."

"I don't believe that." Once again, his gaze fell on her mouth. 

V leaned in until she felt his warmth, listening to his soft intake of breath, inhaling his cologne. She locked eyes with him until she was _centimeters_ from his mouth, tilting her head so. Her body began to tingle in all the right places. God, he smelled so good. They were barely a breath apart, and River couldn't help the allure she had on him, leaning into her orbit. His eyes grew hooded, and V reached, not for him, and just when she knew he was certain to kiss her, she turned her head and kissed the mouth of her beer instead.

Planting a palm against his solid chest to push herself upright, she chugged, disrupting their heated moment to chase what was left of her drink before opening a fresh one. There were too many hindrances in the way. V knew what she wanted, but couldn't get out of her head far enough to commit. Johnny's words still haunted her. She wasn't dragging anyone, but herself. Besides, was a one night stand so bad? It wasn't like she was passing off the relic like some fucking baton. It was still her burden to bear, and maybe she wouldn't feel so heavy, so lost in herself if she shared a moment with someone other than Johnny fuckin' Silverhands. And being around River was a pleasant distraction. He made her feel... _like someone else._

River sank back into the couch, somewhat embarrassed. "Oh, _I see now."_ He wrapped a large hand around her wrist, holding her in place, and the sensation sent shivers through her augments and straight to her core.

"Do you?" She liked where this was going, but how far would he allow her to go? 

"Come." V rose, taking River by the hand and cranking up the volume as the riffs grew in bass and intensity. "Dance with me."


	3. Ride the River

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After one too many beers, who has time for inhibitions? Not V. 
> 
> River doesn't feel like waiting either.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just absolute smut. Not even gonna lie, yall. I'm going to use unpretty things like cunt and cock. I hope that's okay.  
> I'm trying to keep the details of V minimal. She's not just my V, she's yours, too. Please enjoy.

It started playful, their dancing. A respectable distance, just like the couch, but eventually, this _respectable distance_ became obsolete. With the drinks flowing and inhibitions on the dive, the two were getting quite comfortable, wrapping arms around each other, swaying to the music, and lacing hands, refusing let go even when their balance was off-kilter and graceless. When they tumbled, they did so together. When they grooved, it was as one. 

River and V were both six beers deep now and still gearing for more, and so V opened up a pink bottle of liquor - Paul Night- and poured two shots each.

"C'mon," she nearly slurred. Johnny was outta sight and thus outta mind, and she wanted to enjoy every second of his absence while she could. "How does the rhyme go? Beef before pearls? Oh, fuck it."

River was at her side, bumping into her gently amidst this shared polluted state. They clanked their shots and tossed them back one-two as a team.

" _Oof,_ that one burned," V coughed tightly, setting her glass down. "You know what would make a good chaser?"

"Mm?" River grunted with a wince.

"A kiss."

And she did.

It was an innocent peck, short and sweet, right on his lips. And it caught both of them by surprise. Not necessarily because V lost control of herself - she hadn't. She wanted to kiss him but by his expression, had she went too far?

"Shit, I'm sorry, I thought -"

He captured her mouth with his, swallowing her delighted gasp, and seized her in his arms. V melted in the warm embrace, draping her arms around his shoulders and running her fingers through his shorn hair.

Pressed against her was a warm, firm body. A body that _wanted_ to be against her, and that was nearly enough to prick V's eyes with tears. In her drunken state, she knew these emotions were merely exacerbated, that this was not truly how she felt on the matter. She was no sap. _But River -_ oh, River - he felt so good in her arms. And _she_ felt good in his. For a moment, she was more than just a dying thing, but a desired thing.

V must have made a sound, something desperate and caught between a moan and a cry. That was all the motivation River needed.

The floor went out from under V as he lifted her, turning the kiss from searing to scorching. He sat her up on the kitchen counter, wrapping her legs around his waist and stealing the breath straight from her lungs. Her hands moved with a madness, touching and committing every hard edge and the firm plane of his torso to memory. If this were the last man she would ever be with, she wanted to remember him well after she was cold and stiff and _six feet deep_. 

When touch wasn't enough, V captured his face in her hands once more, ravaging him in another bruising kiss. His full lips were so soft and obliging, melding into her own that turned this dirty merc into a dreamy puddle of feelings. Here, she was rabid and rushed, and he was still so slow and calculating. Not allowing her to rush ahead or skip straight to dessert.

River's hands found their way beneath her shirt, snaking up her naked back. V arched into him, pleading in both small noises and her aching body to do more to her, as much as he wanted actually. Every inch of V's body was aflame, coming to life in heat and touches. Untrue to his name, River's touch only stoked the blaze, and V felt it was only right to strike while the iron was hot. She reached for the hem of his shirt, nipping his lower lips as her fingertips slipped under and brushed against his lower belly. He stepped back, peeling the fabric in one motion, and tossed it aside.

The view of his naked torso caused her throat to close up and her vision to blur. At first, she thought the relic was back to take a dump on her intimacy, but it passed quickly. The sight of him just threw her.

" _G_ _oddamn,"_ she breathed, smoothing her hands across his pectorals and down the threads of his abdomen. A shiver coursed through him. Despite his fitted tank that bespoke the gift that awaited her, V was pleased to find a shirtless River was the perfect River for her and that nothing could prepare her for her body's response. She remembered scouting the trailer park during their first mission. Boxing gloves, a punching bag, and even a bench press, she now realized how well those activities awarded River. She was going to reap those rewards for herself. 

V's figure was lithe and slender, like a cat's. The differences between anatomy could be readily seen _and_ felt, and if she were honest, she wanted to be tossed around, especially by River Ward. And so she quickly followed, freeing herself from her baggy shirt. There was nothing underneath, sans her tiny shorts. Her skin prickled then heated under his gaze. 

"You're shaking," River rasped, pupil blown wide.

"I'm _excited,"_ she breathed, reaching for him. "Please, touch me."

He did so - tortuously - and V could think of nothing else. Only his hands gliding up her sides, following the curve of her breasts, and running the pad of his thumbs over her nipples until she considered coming apart right there like a goddamn gonk during their first brain dance. _This was real, and it was happening,_ and whatever control she had was soaking at the bottom of a beer bottle where it belonged.

River pushed closer, brushing V's hair back from her neck, his lips grazing her collar bone and shoulder while worshiping her breasts with tweaks and gentle passes. When his head dipped, and his mouth closed around a nipple, her toes curled, and she gripped the surface of her counter as she watched. He remained there, unraveling her thread by thread until her lungs were riven and stuttering as he suckled and nipped each sensitive bud. The sensations were felt _everywhere._ More specifically, they were shooting bolts of pleasure straight at her core like a whip's cracking kiss every time his tongue passed over her breast, every time his teeth grazed and nipped. Something about watching those lips, _his lips_ , taste her flesh was intoxicating. Ungodly noises streamed out of her until V feared she was about to pass out from sensory overload.

" _Couch. Now."_

River obeyed, scooping her up and carrying her across the apartment.

"Sit for me, River," she slid out of his arms, following into his lap that had him touching and tasting her breasts once more and without prompt. She gripped the back of the couch, head dropping against her shoulders as she writhed with no sense of self. He wanted her, that much was certain and could not be hidden.

 _He's big, Johnny._ She snarled inwardly. _Fuck you - he's fuckin' big._

Whether he heard her or not, she didn't give a shit. Her panties were soaked, and she was on fuckin' fire with need, and that last thing she wanted on her mind was that absolute shit.

River wrapped an arm around her and lifted, throwing her onto her back. V was already clawing at her shorts with River's help. Her hips rose, and they soon joined the other discarded pieces thrown about her apartment. Then he went _down_ , hooking his arms beneath her legs and dipping between her thighs. The moment his mouth came down on her cunt, V stopped breathing. A choppy, uneven sound stuttered out of her. Stars floated across her vision as River devoured her like a last meal. She tried to watch but kept going cross-eyed with every pass of his tongue through her folds. He was slow, like his kisses and his touch, thorough, tasting every part of her and leaving nothing uncharted. Lick after lick, her body coiled in on itself like a spring ready to launch. She trembled and twitched, gasping for air when she forgot to breathe, and panted his name like a prayer. 

" _River,"_ she wetted her lips, stating baldly. "I don't want to cum this way."

He took her clit into his hot mouth, drawing swirls around it with his tongue. V gritted her teeth, fighting mother-fucking-nature herself to keep from spilling over the edge. "Why not?"

"I want to - ," she breathed, " _Fuck, I want to ride you."_

He sat up, his perfect mouth glistening with her juices, and reached for his belt. With a metallic snap and zip, he pushed the fabric away, watching V watch him shed the last piece of cloth that separated them. He sat back down, inviting her into his lap, and V drew up, happy to oblige. They met in a kiss as V settled over him and took him into her hands, stroking his length, drawing low moans from deep within his chest. She couldn't stop kissing him. God, when did she become so fucking soft?

No matter, a breeze reminded her that her thighs were slick from River's ungodly talent and her own throbbing arousal. She lowered herself onto him, taking the tip of his cock carefully as she sank between heartbeats. River's hands came down on her hips, gently guiding her until she was seated fully _and utterly impaled._ V needed a moment to adjust, though her body was screaming to move, to thrash and drive down on him. It was debilitating and a tight fit, but she managed. Every bit of friction, even the smallest, sent flares after flares of pleasure through them both. Control was slipping, but the night was still young and full of play.

River drew her into another passionate kiss, gripping her hips gently and rocking her back and forth. 

" _Oh, fuck,"_ V hissed in warning, but it was too late. Her body rudely detached itself from her will and came apart _vi_ _olently._ She pressed her forehead to River's and drove herself down, quivering and gasping until she was depleted in the aftershocks of bliss. River, pleased with himself and full of masculine pride, slid his hands up and down her back, cupping her breasts and plucking her nipples gently and kissing her when he could until V gathered her bearing once more. She began to move, decorating her hips that stroked his length, tilting and rolling in ways that brought the glans of River's cock against an interesting area of V's core. She pinpointed the angle and milked the sensation until River began to lose his mind. He gripped her tightly, a pain that both delighted her and shrank the space between coherence and madness. Glistening in sweat, flushed from their vigor, V worked him with a reckless abandon. Her core cinched and fluttered, the pressure knocking her rhythm unevenly. 

River wrapped her in his arms, pulling her down onto his cock, and held her there. The thick surge of him was just enough to pitch V over the edge. She came alongside him in spasms and profanity that he caught in a breathless kiss. 

* * *

When V returned to her senses, it was the next morning. A large palm smoothed over her back. It was warm, drawing wide circles, and attached to a larger body wrapped comfortably around her. _River._

A voice, deep and melodic, said gently, "Wake up."

_God, she could get used to that sound, but not this. Not this early bird shit._

She cracked an eye open and groaned, flinging an arm over him, and burrowed into his chest.

"We've got a lot of work to do." River kissed her shoulder then her temple.

"Right," she groused, pushing herself up from the tangle of sheets and naked limbs to look at him. Her body was still buzzed, but at least her mind was clear, which meant-

_Yeah, that's right. I'm still here, and you just made me fuck a cop._

"Goddamn it, Johnny."

River blinked.

"Fuck," V planted her face into the pillow. " _River._ It's... I just remembered something. I'll tell you about it later."

But she wouldn't, because how would he ever understand?


	4. Be Seeing You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a series of short ends and misfortunate, V needs a little time with herself and several shots of tequila. Well into her cups, she receives a call and does what she does best - stirs up trouble.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this looks grim with the downward spiral I've painted but I won't lie to you, I need HEAs and closure so that's what were gonna get.
> 
> Also, cyberpunk has me by the balls right now and the itch to write more related stories is currently my kink. 
> 
> If theres a pairing you would like to see, let me know. I can F/F, M/F, and M/F/M. But not M/M: im not very good it.

Today was far from done and horrible from the start. V couldn't shake the lingerings of a bad gig, full of sick shit and even sicker people. She'd already taken a hot shower, thinking it'd improve her mood, but it simply wasn't in the cards. 

They'd found Randy in a condition that put River in shambles. But he was alive, and that counted for something. Despite how different the circumstances were, she couldn't help but think of Jackie. He was family, so there was that connection. Only differences was Jackie didn't walk away.

 _'I'll call you,'_ River had said before leaving with the Trauma Team's AV. When he left, things went from bad to worse when another relic-induced seizure gripped her heart. She fell on her hands and knees, hacking up her breakfast while the distorted warble buffeted her ears. A pain she couldn't explain whorled through her, alive and seething from inside. When she regained herself, she stood and walked off the farm, and collapsed again.

How she made it back to her apartment is a mystery to be solved later. For once, Johnny's presence was a comfort, preferred even. He had little to say other than she needed to stay focused. Perhaps he could tell she was in low spirits. For what it was worth, he was there, too, at the farm. He saw what she saw, felt what she felt. Cretin or not, even he drew the line at kids. And River... he was hurting, and in turn, it pulled at her. She offered help in whatever he might need, but it seemed he wanted to be alone with his family, which V understood; it still stung.

Johnny took his favorite position at the window, allowing V to sink deeper into her thoughts, where she hoped even he couldn't reach. Regrets were on the rise, many of them, and not just starting with the one night stand with River, where she walked away in deeper shit than she intended. There were... what's the word? _Feelings._ What the fuck did she think was going to happen? She hadn't got laid since before she became friends with Jackie. It seemed so long ago, but at the same time, the pain was so fresh, it could have been yesterday. Hell, it could have been five minutes ago. 

At this horrific rate, things were speeding along. 

V crawled in the shower, planted her hands on the walls, and hung her head.

_Won't be too much longer, Jackie, then I'll be seeing you._

* * *

V had thrown up six times today. One episode left her unconscious, and when she woke, Johnny was crouched over her in what appeared to be a panicked concern. She'd picked herself up from some nondescript alley, soaked in rainwater and runoff that smelled like a ripe asshole, and went home while all around her the world shivered and melted.

 _What are our options?_ Johnny unfolded his arms as she limped into her apartment and peeled off her ruined clothes. _Are we giving up on the Mikoshi lead?_

V scrubbed her face with both hands. She hated these talks down to her very fucking soul. "I don't trust the VooDoo boys," she muttered - didn't trust anyone at this point. It'd only be a matter of time before some gonk got cheeky and put a price over her head. Maybe the relic would take her out before then. 

_As you shouldn't, but I'm starting to ... empathize, which only means it's worsening._

This made V's stomach churn, and like clockwork, the pain crawled up her spine. She was already moving towards the bathroom, hands slapping the tile as she fell before the toilet and heaved.

"I hate this," she gulped for air. "I hate all of this."

_Tell me about it._

She wanted to. Starting with the bullshit gig that cost Jackie's life and now chipped away at her own. She hated the fact that she'd been dumped out of city limits like a busted Thorton with a smoking hole. She hated how much she loved her short, simple fuck with River, how he held her all night whilst she slept, kissing her shoulder at times, tracing her body with his hand like she was a work of fucking art. She hated it so much, the gauge broke, and the needle reset, and it wasn't hate anymore, but something worse and nothing she had time for. 

Then the blackness swept in, quiet and quivering, until she hated nothing at all.

* * *

V fell back into the familiar pattern; she had to. Following every lead she could, checking more nooks and crannies of Night City, all covered in shit and corruption. 

"Why are you looking at me like that?" she grumbled over her cold dinner; she hadn't the appetite for a few days, couldn't find it.

_Your bodies shutting down, kid. We've got to do something._

A wave of anger, black and deep, came over her. She slammed her fist down on the table, rattling the plastic ware, and counted to five. Deep breath, she told herself. They were stuck in her skull together and he felt every lance of pain she did. It'd be senseless to create animosity with Johnny who had the knack of being a pain in her ass - in everyone's ass. 

"Johnny, I'm _trying,"_ she said tightly. " _You know_ that I'm trying."

It wasn't Johnny she was mad at, but herself. The VooDoo boys set her up on a suicide mission, with V being none the wiser. On top of that, Brigette turned around and offered her help as some sort of backhanded apology. A 'fool me once, etc.' scenario V wasn't interested in, and now she was short on options, and they all seemed to lead back to a phone call with Brigette.

_Your meat hasn't replied to you in three days, now you're all beat up about it. You wanted a one night stand- you got it._

"Perhaps, before all this, that was true," V muttered. Now she was just hungry, angry, and dying. When she slept, it was the result of the relic and only in shallow winks that left her more fucked up than before. Now she'd been reduced to a moving body with hardly a conscious mind.

_Stop._

V made a face between a grimace and a scowl. She hated this feeling, but her future was looking grimmer by the second. Nothing seemed to work, and with every step she took, the world turned a hungry gaze on her and drooled.

_V._

She stood, abandoning her untouched food, and donned her coat.

It was pouring when she stepped outside, slicking the concrete and mirroring warped versions of reality. The page of a newspaper stuck to her boot as she trudged down the steps. She paused. **_HUMANITY DOOMED AMIDST CYBER WARFARE_ **the title screamed at her. Of course, it was never that easy. In her struggle to remove it, her frustration grew sharp and relentless until her face flushed hotly, and she considered punching something hard over and over until her knuckles bled or she broke her fingers. She grabbed the damp page with a fist and slung it off of her.

_V, don't do this. Don't give up on this._

"Fuck this place," she snarled, "Fuck this city."

She marched out of the building and into the streets, deadset on turning this inner turmoil off by whatever means, and the only place that could do that was the nearest bar. She didn't want to feel right now, and what liquor she had at her home was spent during her night with... 

Her stomach clenched with an emotion she refused to acknowledge. 

Why did she care so much? Was it because death was knocking, and she wanted to live her last few days in a strong pair of arms and sweet kisses while throwing the world one last middle finger? Perhaps she should have told him if part of her wished for no sympathy in the matter. On the other hand, she was glad she kept it to herself. If _this_ was the result, regardless if he had known, it would have certainly twisted the proverbial knife she plunged into her own goddamn side.

* * *

The Afterlife welcomed V with a sea of bodies cloaked in an ominous blue. Flickers of red, purple, and yellow winked between the dense shadows. Polished chrome, matte blacks, and sharp edges writhed under a cloud of pink smoke. V shouldered her way through, making sure not to lock eyes with the fixer that perpetually inhabited the dwelling.

"Well, if it isn't my shit-hot driver," Claire smirked from behind the bar. 

V forced a smile that might not have reached her eyes. Claire had always been friendly to her. "Only if you mean shit and hot separately. Two shots of your top-shelf tequila, please."

Claire's brows rose, "Oh, what's the occasion?"

"Nothing," V sighed. "Same shit, different day."

And who knew how many were left? Why guess? What fucking difference did it make if it happened right now or tomorrow?

The first shot went down smoothly, barely a bite, and the second one, because of her empty stomach, warmed her right away.

"Two more." 

Claire obliged.

Around V, the smoke swirled, the music throbbed, the acrid burn at the back of her throat prepared her for a sudden twist in her gut, the tremor overtaking her ocular system, rattling her neurons like dice. The space around her shuddered and with it a bright bolt of pain. She'd gotten used to it by now, able to brace for the relic's effects by the warning signs, but at least she didn't vomit.

V set the shot glass down carefully, grateful for the Afterlifer's dim lighting and deafening music. No one could see the pain she was in; no one could hear the gasp she made as her lungs struggled to do the one thing they were designed to do. She slumped in her seat, holding her head up by the cradle of her hands, tasting blood in her mouth.

_V, listen to me..._

"Two more," she said. 

* * *

V bled into her surroundings, drifting between shadows and sweat-slicked bodies. She couldn't feel her face, but she might have been smiling. When hands came down on her, she shrugged it off and slipped away. When drinks were placed into her hand, she drank without question, chasing away sense and logic, rationality, and most importantly, tomorrow.

Dense smoke swirled and coalesced with the neon lights like a kaleidoscope. Moments like these reminded V of all the reckless nights with Jackie. God, she missed him so much. Her best friend; her confidant. There was no time to mourn, to feel, to hope. V was a dead woman walking. She felt the beat through the floor. Heavy, wet, and throbbing, just like her weak fucking heart. She turned, closing her eyes under the sweeping lights. Flushed, hot, dying. A woman sidled up next to her, dark lipstick, darker eyes, and sharp, gilded canines. She offered V a syringe full of neon purple liquid and V answered by opening her mouth. 

And the night went on - until she got a call.

"Hello?" she slurred, plopping into a booth to steady herself. "Hello??"

"Good evening, V," a voice behind a modulator that obscured both age and gender replied. "I have a job for you. 20k upfront, another 20k if you get the job done."

"Wait-what?" she blinked, sobering for just a moment.

"I've flicked you the first half of the eddies already."

V received the alert across her ocular display which meant the client was within range and sight. She sat up and looked around but there was too many people and none of them were paying her any mind.

She hunkered back down in her booth, whispering drunkenly. "These reeks of shit, y'know that, right?"

"I can't go into detail," they said. "It was a botched job that I need rectified as soon as possible," and hung up.

* * *

Unfortunately, V was blasted beyond comprehension, but it didn't mean she wouldn't try. With half the payout already cooling off in her account, she couldn't help but feel a little baited. 

Staggering out of the Afterlife, V chugged a bottle of water and promptly threw up on the concrete. Provoked by a concoction of tequila and lime splashing against the cement, someone promptly hurled with her. "So sorry," she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and kept moving.

The coordinates received took her only a few blocks anyway, which was questionable in itself, if not convenient. V hacked into the security system from across the street and managed to get another look provided by the cameras. The positioning wasn't beneficial but it was manageable. It looked empty, at least, sounded empty too.

 _This smells like shit,_ she told herself, crossing back over the street. There were four levels; she checked each one slowly (because she was still trying to sober up) and as thoroughly (as her swimming vision allowed.) She made it to the topmost level before finding a lone car and paused. A quick scan of the vehicle told her nothing and it didn't appear rigged either, and so she approached. She checked the doors, which were locked, and checked the interior, which was empty. When she placed her hand on the hood, it was still warm as though it'd _just_ been parked. She took a step back, cursing herself for not asking for more information.

Calling the client back was useless -they didn't answer- and the situation was looking sloppier as she went. 

"They did say it was a botched job," she tried assuring herself. She considered abandoning it all together, but with 20k more eddies on the other side - V'd gotten out of stickier situations before, hadn't she? 

There was a thump - and a muffled cry. V's gaze locked onto the trunk. She stepped around, listening as another smothered report came from the back end of the car. After a quick hack, the lock released, and she lifted, expecting the unexpected, horrors of all horrors that can only be found within an abandoned trunk - then howled in pure fright.

Bound and gagged inside was Jackie.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ah yes, how? you wonder. the next chapter will explain. don't come for me.


	5. Speak of the Devil

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's a sudsy treat awaiting you guys at the end.

"Jackie!" V felt the sound tear through her throat like a broken roar, but she was unthinking, unfeeling, consumed by one thought. She threw her arms around him in an attempt to lift him out, but in her addled state and blind animal-panic, he was too heavy. She rounded on the empty garage, scanning the lot for _god-knows-fucking-what._ It was just her and -

Something hard struck the back of her head with enough force to stun her. Light burst across her eyes as her knees buckled; she dropped like a dead weight, landing on her chest and feeling a burst of pain across her face as she cracked against the cement. Sprawled, V's limbs felt foreign and disconnected; mind shut off from the rest of her body. She willed them to move, to press her palms against the coarse ground and push herself up - to turn _and see,_ to _understand._

 _Jackie?_ Her thoughts scattered like blown pixels, coming in and out of focus with the world around her. _Why would Jackie -_

The garage walls began to shudder and tremble, a wave of nausea announcing the relic's timely malfunction. Amidst the pain, confusion, and belligerence, her fingertips tingled; she struggled to pick herself up. 

Jackie swung a booted foot, kicking V onto her back and locking the air out of her lungs. She turned her head to puke in this anatomical vacuum.

The shadow of her best friend passed over her.

 _"Jackie?"_ it took considerable effort to lift her head, to focus on the garage yawing on off its axis. Even her eyes didn't want to remain open. 

She tried to understand it was not Jackie at all but a horrible mockery - a decoy. A fucked set-up to throw V off her guard, and _it worked_. The man had the same build, same haircut, but even in her polluted state, she knew those augments, the glint of cybernetics lining his cheeks. It _was_ Jackie, but his eyes were not familiar but dark and pitless. This was something else. 

"Heard you've got something for me in that brain bucket of yours," the voice from the phone call spilled from his lips like a recorder. "Let's crack it open."

Now he stood before her as she gasped for air, struggling to see through the blood pooling into her oscillating vision. A baseball bat hung from his fingers.

" _Jackie."_ It slipped out of her like a whimper. She wanted to close her eyes to the red, fragmented world amidst the relic's malfunction and her own blood. Reality doubled, split like a wound. 

" _Jackie_ ," she gasped, warmth suffused her, pulling her under gently as she reached for him. "Jackie, I'm so sorry -" 

He swung, the thick end of the bat slicing through the air, aimed directly for V's head. She caught it seconds from impact with _her_ handbut not her will - she squeezed. The plates flexed, jutting from their slots, and the cheap material splintered, showering her face in itchy fibers, then tore the weapon free.

Detached physically, V observed her knee draw into her chest and drive a booted heel into the man's sternum. She sat up, palming her head, her fingers coming away red.

" _You motherfucker_ ," she snarled. Her hand disappeared, freeing her revolver from its holster in one fluid motion. 

Armed with nothing and left with a dismantled ambition- the assailant turned to run. V swept her leg out, catching his ankle, and he pitched forward onto his face; V-who-was-not-V descended, gripping Jackie by the collar.

 _Listen to me now, V._ Johnny's voice burst through her head like a debilitating migraine. _It's a replicant - it's not Jackie. Do you hear me? It's a replicant!_ She watched herself tower over him, stuff the barrel into his mouth, and pull the trigger. White synthetic blood and artificial brain matter blew back against the cement.

V's stomach roiled violently, forcing Johnny to turn to the side and heave.

* * *

River ran a hand down his rugged face while he stared into the roof of his trailer. Physically, he was exhausted. Mentally, he was fried, but that did little to keep his thoughts from racing like a sleek silver number and its driver he also couldn't stop thinking about. Randy still refused to talk, and the uncle knew not to press; he just wanted his nephew back. Given the delicate matter, naturally, it would take time. Some days were harder, but when it came to River Ward when it rained, it was a torrential pour. He wished to put the past away and begin anew, but waiting - _fuck -_ waiting left River in such a hateful state and _so_ directed, it was hard to think of anything else but tying loose ends. More specifically, he wanted to wrap his hands around the throat of the sick bastard responsible. He'd already lost his badge. What else did he have to lose now?

He thought of V - even though he shouldn't have, and it hurt to do so. It wasn't like she belonged to him. What they shared was nothing but a quick rut, despite how her touch made his heart hammer and ache for something more. What he saw in her eyes that night was desperate and stretched so thin, it was obvious V had her own battles, as did he. An ex-cop and merc? As unlikely as it was unprecedented and he didn't want to burden her or come off any type of way by suggesting they slap a label on it.

A notification pinged from his phone. Probably a scammer, given the hour. He glanced at the clock and groaned: 3 am. It was a good thing he didn't have work tomorrow. Even now, having Randy back, getting sleep was still a challenge.

He pulled up the alert; a red glow flashed across his ocular display.

Speak of the devil; it was V.

He sat up promptly and opened it, not oblivious to the thrumming he felt against his chest. 

_V (0315): It's Johnny, a good friend of V's. We're kinda in a fuckin' bind right now, and we'd both really appreciate a lift back at home. Flicking you the address_ now.

Just as soon as he read the first one, a second one arrived.

_V (0315): Another thing: make it quick. We're falling uncon-_

* * *

V hadn't anticipated waking in the familiarity of her bed - or waking at all-and did so with a start. Pain she was not prepared for awaited this moment and struck like a tectonic hammer. She froze, forging through the discomfort one second at a time with gritted teeth. Sunlight poured through her window, glaring and so bright it hurt to behold. V shielded her face with a hand and groaned, easing back down. She felt wrecked, worse than any night of binging with -

"JACKIE!" she snapped up again, throwing the covers away and falling out of bed in a heap of stiff limbs and bodily protest. For a moment, she half-lay on the floor, half from her bed, taking measured breaths through the renewed soreness and the blood rush now pounding her skull soundly.

The front door to her apartment chimed and hissed open. Seeing as V was not expecting guests, she withdrew a pistol stuffed under her mattress and aimed - only to see River enter, holding a bag of groceries.

She lowered the gun, pressing her forehead into the cool tile with a heavy sigh.

He paused, took in her posture, and set aside the items. She didn't protest as he crossed the room, knelt, and gathered her into his arms in a way that she both craved and hated. Only around River did she feel small and meek, dainty and insecure, but they were shortcomings she would treat like trophies even then.

They said nothing for some time. V was still relishing in the lingering warmth his arms left on her body, fingers trailing her flesh when he pulled away. To distract her mind, she took inventory of her injuries - might as well - seeing as it would be at least a day's worth of time before she could get up and at it again. She had a split lip, bruising along her hip readily seen by her favorite crop top and shorts ensemble someone - likely River - dressed her in, and a headache that rivaled the one Deshawn resent from beyond the grave. Scuffed and abrased, it wasn't the worst she'd endured, but better days had been seen. When she probed her head injury, blood still encrusted her scalp and hair. She needed a shower before she took on her next objective - and at least a meal. And probably wash the sheets while she was at it, but this could be worried about later.

The cop returned to her small kitchen and threw several items in the fridge, and came back to sit at the edge of her bed.

"Tell me what the hell is going on, V," River said. "I know I've been MIA for a few days, but I'm just a phone call away."

"Yeah," she muttered hoarsely and looked up in time to watch Johnny come to focus. Moments like these made her feel so delusional, like the times before she realized Johnny could hear her thoughts just as easily as if she spoke them - _and was_ , appearing as delusional as she felt.

"What were you doing in the parking garage?" River asked, more gently this time. He looked as if he might reach for her and stroke her into compliance; she'd be okay with that. 

"How'd you find me?" 

"I got a text saying you were in trouble."

Another short, humorless laugh pushed through her nose. "Of course."

Johnny ignored her when she glanced at him, stretching across the couch.

 _Thank you,_ she said, regardless.

_You're welcome, V._

It was perhaps the most polite thing he'd ever said to her, which proved far more frightening than it was pleasant. Were the blurring lines between V and Johnny no longer a blur but gone altogether?

"Thing is," River continued. " _Johnny_ was the one who sent the text, yet when I arrived, I found only you. Where's Johnny? _Who_ is Johnny?"

V groaned as Johnny fuckin' Silverhands geared up for a lengthy introduction with a party and privy of one. She waited until he was done, despite the stretch of awkward silence and River looking _directly_ at her. He deserved the stage for pulling her out of The Shit _\- again_. When he was finished, she found the end of secrets and indecision. River deserved to know at least _something._

Last night was proof that Jackie was still alive. Whatever sick play she uncovered had to be explored, but there wasn't much time to work with - for Jackie or herself.

"River, I'm going to tell you something you're not going to believe," she turned her body to him, seated in a lady-like posture that gave the illusion she was a well-mannered, well-to-do, Night City denizen when she was everything but, and offered her palm. 

He understood the implication, freeing his cable and slotting in gently. They both took a slow, calculated breath as the room took on a blue hue, connection seated. River's eyes mirrored the same.

It was time V told someone _everything._

* * *

"Johnny Silverhand?" River blinked, jacking out of her palm and shaking his head incredulously. As a prior cop, the NCPD installed cybernetics designed for interrogations - both of the passive and aggressive variables, though it'd been geared more towards the latter; she was telling the truth. "Is he here now? You can see him? Talk to him?"

She nodded.

"What's he saying?" 

_Why does he give a shit?_ Johnny grumbled.

V glanced at Johnny before considering an answer. "Just his typical ramblings. Fuck bitches, make money."

_I've never said that?_

"Charming," River scoffed sardonically.

"He can be," she winked, but it wasn't Johnny she was talking about, and when River caught the gesture, he bit back a cheeky smile.

"I thought there was another man," he blew a sigh of relief. "I thought, _what's the fuckin' catch?_ "

V laughed, the sound so broken and underused that it caught her off-guard. She cleared her throat and said, "First of all, I warned you that _I could be bad_."

"I like bad," he whispered and then reached for her. "I've missed you."

"I've missed you too." V watched his thumb stroke the back of her hand, mesmerized by both sensation and act. It was startling how a bit of kindness could disarm her so. Suddenly, she was too afraid to look up and reveal how vulnerable she was at this moment, how undone she was by his words. Less a dirty merc with an attitude now and more of a soft-bellied scop than ever. Rather, she squeezed his hand, non-to-gently but enough to tell him she meant it, that she was there in the moment- that it was just taking her a spell to process. 

"Where did you find me last night?" she asked, finally meeting his gaze. 

"On the bottom floor of a parking garage, tucked in an elevator shaft." Not the worst place to be unconscious, another nod to ever-planning Johnny to pull them from the public eye and wait for back up while they took a mandatory dirt nap. 

"Did you see anyone else?"

River shook his head.

V's stomach dropped. She _wasn't_ delusional this time; Johnny saw it too. Now that River knew just about all that there was to know, she could speak freely, and that was a relief - for what it was worth. There was still a myriad of other problems, and suspecting the possibility of Jackie being _alive_ was both terrifying and relieving. It was worth exploring; she reminded herself. It _had_ to be explored.

"Something that looked like Jackie attacked me last night. Johnny swore to me it was a _replicant_ , so unless Arasaka predicted our breach that night and thus Jackie's death, this was personal, which means his body _and_ mind are still out there. I can only think of one entity who has the knowledge and wherewithal to pull this off."

"So you believe Arasaka is behind this?"

"There's no telling," she looked way in thought. "I can't imagine anyone else having sicker intent than Arasaka. I'm sure there was a variety of prototypes before they reached a functioning Relic. Engrams are nothing new. Constructs and advanced AI's," she thought of the vending machine and shook her head. "It's all entirely possible."

_I certainly wouldn't put it beyond the bastards to enlist corpses to do their bidding._ Johnny crossed his ankles. _Less clean up, lower liability. Just look what they fuckin' did to me._

_But what if he's not a corpse? What if they somehow brought him back, made an engram out of him, and he's still out there? Someone's using Jackie as bait to get to me._

V tried to keep her mind from descending into a series of horrible w _hat if's?_ Had they nabbed him between dropping V off and arriving in Heywood? Her stomach clenched. What would Mama Welles think of the news? As tempting as it was to return to Heywood and request the Valentinos' help, V didn't have much to go on or any substantial intel to share. Not only that, but what kind of person would that make V take to the streets, declaring Jackie was alive and well, with no proof? Enough knives had found themselves a home in Heywood's side; V needn't twist its handle. She needed more information (and time!) - and a plan.

V stretched her legs out carefully, wincing until her bare feet touched the cold tile, and sighed. "Help me up?"

River pulled V to her feet, stepping close to steady her as she casually (intentionally) rested her hands on his chest. Testing the strength in her legs, protests were felt within her quads more than anything, but she could stand and walk - or shuffle- just fine. And shuffle to the bathroom, she did. One glimpse into the mirror and V was grimacing. Her hair stuck her head like a helmet, and truth be told, she looked worse for wear. Her lip was split open; bloodstains painted half her face and she had the promise of a black eye too, but the swelling was minor. Better days had certainly been seen. 

Yanking drawers open, she rummaged around for anti-inflammatories and pain killers. It looked like V rarely threw anything out, but at least her efforts were successful, downing two tablets each. She gave herself a moment, closing her eyes as the medicine made its way down a scoured throat. She reached over and flung the shower on, then began the tedious process of undressing. Managed was a strong word for this rigid removal of clothes. Lifting her arms above her head was a defying the laws of gravity, stepping into the shower monumental, but at length, she shrugged herself under the stream and allowed the torrent of water to cascade over her.

With her head down, she watched the pink rivulets of blood ebb and flow around her feet before swirling into the drain. Her hair formed a thick shroud curtaining her face by the flow, and where the hot water traveled, her wounds prickled and stung pleasantly. Did she have it in her to clean herself? She could barely undress - her body was in such a state, but V must try.

Several minutes passed until her hair was rinsed of blood, and the pain was not so sharp. She splayed her toes for balance and straightened her back, then reached for the soap dispenser installed along the wall. It squirted a generous glob into her palm, and she set to work, cleaning where she could reach and straining for where she could not. 

A cabinet in the main room slapped shut, drawing her out of her thoughts. Another few minutes went by, filled with kitchen activity and River's movements; she couldn't bother to think of anything else but beside River. It was unexplainable and immature and silly among all else, but V liked looking at him.

"River?" she said over the tumbling water. 

He appeared in the doorway.

"Could use a little help in here," she told him.

That frame of a man entered, veiled by the wafts of steam, and asked, "Did you forget something?"

She tongued the split along her lip, giving it a thought, and said, "I can't reach with my injuries."

Not entirely a lie, not entirely the truth, either.

It seemed he hesitated for a moment before removing all his clothes then stepping into the shower. She turned away, giving him _a little_ privacy, and said, "The soaps behind you."

The cap popped open then snapped shut. She listened to him lather his hands together; then he was running soap up her sides, across her back, and down her arms. She wondered if he noticed her shiver beneath his touch but made no mention of it. River moved to her legs, calves, and even her feet. She wiggled her toes, the black nail polish glinting, and he looked up at her with a smile, and the sight was still as startling as the first-day meeting. How did he always look so good? V felt her face grow hot and her own smile tugging the corner of her mouth.

Then he moved to her hair, gingerly avoiding the split where the bat tried to crack her skull open, working the shampoo into a soapy lather.

"You're enjoying this, aren't you?" he muttered. "First, I bring you home after a night tearing up the town. Now you've got me bathing you."

"Don't act like this is one-sided," she purred.

He stepped closer, sweeping her hair over her shoulder. He felt impossibly warm, and V couldn't resist leaning into him. He ran his hands over her waist, up her ribs, gliding gently over her lower abdomen before cleaning beneath the swell of her breasts and dangerously past her belly button, then followed the gentle slope of her hips without ever delving into more secretive areas - River Ward, an ever gentleman. Until now, V never understood the adage _less is more_. Though they'd already seen each other naked, it still felt like she'd barely discovered him. Like his namesake, River was the exact thing she wanted to drown herself in. 

The meds were now kicking in, effectively reducing the aches and pains felt initially. In fact, she was feeling rather warm and lucid - among other things.

V made her desires known by bending forward and planting her hands along the shower wall. She rubbed her rear into his lap, where she was pleased to find River was also feeling equally lucid. Encouraged, he drew closer, planting a large hand over hers, fingers lacing, and lowered his head to nip her neck and shoulder. How he learned what she liked so quickly was beyond her, and the sensation tightened her nipples, drawing a stream of sounds from her parted lips. His free hands slipped between her thighs, caressing the sensitive flesh around everywhere but where she wanted it the most. He snaked an arm around her midsection, bending her forward, and she clung to that arm while the other reached from behind and cupped her sex. His touch was firm, tracing her wet entrance deftly, parting her folds to rub her clit with the barest of touches, then sinking a single-digit knuckle deep into her cunt, then back to her clit. 

The water streamed down her back and thighs, running a channel that followed River's forearm to join her arousal dripping off his fingers. She felt everything, but it wasn't enough, and she made this known by grinding against the hand between her thighs.

" _River_ ," she moaned, the sound of his name just as potent as the fingers sinking in and out of her.

Then it ended.

He pulled away and turned her around, capturing her face with his hands - not to kiss her but to look her in the eye.

V was taken aback. The sudden change in intimacy alarmed her, for the same vulnerability she dodged earlier came rearing up to seize her by the throat. There was nowhere to run, nowhere to look so closely pressed but into the eyes of River Ward, a man who would not allow V to use him nor would he allow her to run any longer. Faced with this, she was wholly unprepared to see what she was doing to him.

She was hurting him; she was hurting herself. River now knew her time was limited, and yet, he was here and tearing down her walls with his bare hands. 

"What is this?" he asked her, cupping her face. "What do you want from me? Tell me, V. Just _tell_ me. I'll be anything you want."

For a spell, she searched his gaze, his expressive set mouth, and the muscle ticking in his jaw. There she found the same concern she unearthed during their first gig where she snuck into the Animal's club through a cargo container. They were strangers then, and V hadn't stopped reliving that moment since. The last person to truly connect with V was Jackie. In more ways than one, it was her fault he was gone. It was her fault she lost him. Perhaps if she'd been kinder to him while they fought tooth and nail to flee the tower, he'd still be with her. She could still taste her stinging words in the elevator, both battered and bleeding, shell-shocked.

What _did_ she want? The answer was simple if one sifted through the bullshit considered meat, tissue, and fat to see the fundamentals: the bones of the matter.

"I _want everything_ ," she spoke tightly, choking on the rawness of her voice. "But most of all, I want to spend these last moments with someone kind to me, someone like _you_ , because -" she gritted her teeth, forcing the words out. " _I'm dying,_ and I'm all out of time."

And maybe a little kindness would get her through, for Jackie. She didn't deserve River, and River didn't deserve to put up with this bullshit, yet he was still here, yet she was still all in, even if her hand was absolute shit. 

"No," he stroked her cheek, her jawline. "No, you're not dying. We'll figure this out. I promise."

He pulled her into his arms, kissing her face, her temple, murmuring assurances into her wet hair. She embraced River with her entire body, down to the fraying threads of her soul. The end was nigh, yes, but V wouldn't stop there. 

V; the street kid. V; the dirty merc. V, with the chip on her shoulder and _in her head_ \- fought hard not to cry and lost. Her lip trembled as she closed her eyes and pressed her mouth to River's. All the cracks inside her, the weary bits, and bruises were far from healed, but for now, they were ignored. In sighs and moans, they fell away from her thoughts when River deepened the kiss in slow tenderness. Slick and heated by desire, she told River everything she wanted in the sweeps of her tongue in ways she could never achieve with words. 

"You're not dying," he whispered against her mouth.

V turned, pressing her palms into the walls and her rear into River's lap. He cupped her breasts, moving his hips in such a way it ran the length of his cock across V's core, painting himself in her arousal. While he kneaded her gently, tweaking her nipples, she reached under, bringing the tip of him to her entrance. He entered her slowly, and her core stretched and yielded to his girth, gripping and squeezing eagerly. He withdrew and sank in again, fully seating and gripping her narrow waist. With a rhythm and angle that had V's breath hitching every time his glans rubbed against her upper wall, River fucked her in all the ways V wanted: endearingly, lovingly, with kindness. He reached between them, his fingers finding her sensitive clit and drawing torturous circles while he dragged his length in and out of her. She was dizzy now, panting and hanging her head as the water channeled her hair into a solid curtain around her face. With each snap of his hips, River's hold tightened, his thrusts unrelenting, braiding a pain and a pleasure V was doubling over for. The knot of pleasure fanning hot and bright in her belly spooled out with each thick surge, growing tauter, until it snapped. 

She cried out, throwing herself into the movement of River's hips until he too sank into her with a ragged sigh and trembling body. He emptied inside of her as she clung to him, ravaging her with kisses and touching her everywhere his hands could reach.

* * *

V checked and rechecked the chamber of her arsenal while River thumbed round after round into the magazine. They packed their small armory, attached their scopes to their rifles, tossed a few grenades in, and threw everything in the back of V's car.

She handed him the keys and said, "You drive," before crawling into the passenger's side and resting a shotgun between her knees, barrel down. River sank into the driver's seat beside her, admiring the sleek, dark interior of black leather and ominous red lighting. When he turned the ignition, the engine roared, then steadied into a deep bellied rumble. Heavy riffs of metal poured from the speakers in low volumes. But neither the rumble nor the riffs were setting V on edge; it was the fear of the unknown. 

The reason for her fidgety disposition was Jackie. Tonight was merely a reconnaissance of the area, an area she was walking blindly into, but she'd be lying to say she wasn't eager to take it a step further, to kick down whatever doors, tear through whatever chests with her shotguns and katanas, if it meant rescuing Jackie. V was prepared to face whatever horrors Night City had conjured.

They'd found a lead through the surveillance footage from across the parking garage, able to pull a number from the license plate as the car drove into the lot. The plate led them to a man named Chase Canaan. After that, River managed to glean additional information with his NCPD clearance the force forget to revoke when they kicked him, and from there, they snagged some coordinates.

V checked her chamber one more time, tightened the straps on her field-carry vest, and punched in the coordinates. Neither River nor V knew where they were about to head, but again, this wasn't an offensive move, merely to see where and what they were working with. Weapons and explosives were V's way of ensuring they had what they needed if The Shit decided to show her ugly face again. Which it likely would, knowing V's luck. 

The map rotated, scrolling across the network of boulevards and avenues, and scanned a sector west of the Arasaka Waterfront, pinpointing a location deep within Watson District, not an unfamiliar place at all.

"Fuck," River and V said in unison. 

They were heading to Maelstrom territory.

River reached over the center console and took her hand. "Nothing we can't handle."

She squeezed his hand, kissed his knuckles, and inhaled that tooled-leather and whiskey scent.

"For Jackie," he said.

She nodded. 

"For Jackie."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To be continued? I've been brainstorming and doing a bit of research canon-wise. I didn't plan on going beyond this and right now I'm annoyed with AO3; if you've noticed, my Bite story was taken down(hidden) for "abuse" which I'm currently challenging. I believe the report said something about commercializing/profiting or some garbage. In short, I credited an artist I commissioned a piece from. Damned if I do, damned if I don't credit them, but nonetheless that's a shit silly thing to report but I digress.
> 
> Thanks for the kudos and the sweet words - let me know what you think! Or if you'd like to see a different pairing. I'm thinking about working on Fem V x Vik next. Or if you want me to continue this, just holla etcha gorl.


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